


a hypothesis in gay

by lumenera



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Nerd, M/M, Pre and Post Time Skip, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/pseuds/lumenera
Summary: In which the past returns to you, one way or another. Or, using the scientific method to find out, if you are, in fact, gay for your estranged childhood friend.
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66
Collections: Haikyuu Rarepair Exchange 2020





	a hypothesis in gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [floresste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/floresste/gifts).



> this is for the hq rarepair exhange! grace, i hope you like it :)  
> cw// casual drinking(but they are of age)  
> disclaimer: i've never had any alcohol so if this doesn't sound right that's probably why

If you read the articles online, written by supposed “experts”, they would say that the red string of fate appeared when you needed your soulmate the most. Or the most opportune moment, depending which one you read. Or, if you struck up a conversation with the person who stood at the street corner, day in and day out, they would tell you that soulmates were a hoax, a social construct made to sell you the idea of your one true love.

His parents and grandparents each had their own wildly different story. His mother, who he’d never met. His father, who would never talk about her. His grandmother, who sat him down on her lap and told him all the stories about her family, how happy they were, as if taping up the edges of his broken family would make it less broken.

Kuroo wasn’t sure what he believed. 

***

He and Daishou were hiding out in the back of the library again, pretending to be studying. Kuroo had his head bent over his notes, trying to decipher his own handwriting more so than actually read what they said. When he looked up, Daishou met his gaze.

"None of this makes sense," he said, his hand moving in a sweeping gesture over his own notes, just as illegible as Kuroo's.

Kuroo shrugged. "We can go get the textbook if you'd like."

"That makes even less sense," Daishou retorted. 

"Really?" Kuroo countered. "Do you want to pass this test or not?"

"We're never gonna use this in real life. Anyway, what's the point? I thought we weren't actually studying."

Kuroo considered this for a moment before a thought struck him.

"If I get below a 70, I'm not allowed to play volleyball." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I guess I really do have to study after all."

"Hey," Daishou said softly, softer than his usual snarky tone. "You're smart, what are you worried about?"

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'll pass."

"I believe in you." Daishou nodded. "You've never failed before, I'm sure you'll be fine."

Kuroo didn't know what overtook him, in the silence that stretched on, just looking at Daishou and Daishou looking back at him. Hidden by the bookshelves, Kuroo leaned forward and kissed him.

Daishou didn't push him away. Once his brain finally caught up to him and he realized what he was doing, Kuroo pulled back, breathing heavily. Daishou's face was red, and Kuroo was pretty sure he was just as red, if not more.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, Daishou pushed back his chair and stalked out. Kuroo opened his mouth to call after him, knocking over the chair in his haste. When he realized he had nothing to say, he closed it, and sat back down.

It took less than 30 seconds to turn his world upside-down, and suddenly, he felt very empty indeed.

It turned out, pretending that it never happened was easier said than done, when Daishou headed in the other direction every time he saw Kuroo.

And, eventually, Kuroo stopped trying to chase after him.

***

His second kiss, ironically enough(Now that he looked back on it), was Mika, the summer break of his first year of high school. Kenma's mom wanted someone to go with Kenma to the mall, otherwise he couldn't go. So they took the bus, Kenma chatting softly about the game he’d saved up for for weeks. They disembarked at the mall and made their way to the store.

"Kuroo-kun!" a voice called. Kuroo turned around, his face splitting into a smile.

"Hey, Mika-chan."

She jogged over. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good, how about you? How’s Nekoma treating you?”

“I like it. The volleyball team is really good, it makes me want to work even harder to keep up.”

“Maybe one day I’ll understand the hype behind the sport.” She laughed, the tips of her ears going pink. “Suguru seems to be working hard, too.”

Kuroo digested the information with an inhale. He hadn’t exchanged a word with Daishou since their fatal library encounter, though he should have expected this. Daishou loved volleyball as much as he did, maybe even more than he did. Kenma tugged on his sleeve, breaking his reviere. 

“Can I go into the store alone? So you can keep talking to Mika. Don’t tell mom, I’ll be back soon.”

Kuroo gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll wait outside, okay?”

“Okay.”

He and Mika watched Kenma disappear into the store.

“Kozume-kun’s grown from the last time I’ve seen him.”

Kuroo nodded tightly, Mika’s earlier words still bouncing around in his head. _Suguru seems to be working hard_. When was the last time he’d thought about Daishou?

He turned the thougth away. "How's Nohebi?"

“The classes are a lot more intense than I thought they would be,” Mika confessed. “I’m going to have to double down on my studying time.”

Kuroo flashed a grin. “Yeah, it happens to the best of us. It really is taking all of my effort between that and volleyball, the practices are so much harder now that we’re in high school.”

“I can imagine.” Mika gave a wistful sigh. “Feels like only yesterday we started junior high. Time passes by so fast, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

The door of the game store chimed open, and Kenma walked back out, hands securely wrapped around his new game.

“Alright, I have to go.” Kuroo jerked a thumb at Kenma on his way over. “It was nice running into you, though.”

“Bye, Kuroo-kun, bye, Kenma-kun, I hope you enjoy your game.”

She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss Kuroo goodbye on the cheek. She'd done it before, so he tilted his head and bent down so it would be easier for her. He over-corrected, her lips meeting his for the briefest millisecond.

She jolted back in alarm.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry, Mika-chan, that was an accident. I didn't feel anything from it," he assured her, and she sighed in relief. "I don't like you that way and I know you don't either."

Mika laughed. "Yeah, maybe next time we should just stick to hugs."

"Yeah, I think that would be for the best."

She smiled at him. He smiled back.

Kenma snickered when they got back on the bus. “Your face was so red.”

“That’s not my fault!” Kuroo objected, feeling the heat flush up in his face again. Kenma snickered some more, covering his mouth with his hand.

***

_An experiment, as conducted by Kuroo Tetsurou:_

_Hypothesis: I might be gay._ _  
__Independent Variable: The person I kiss._ _  
__Dependent Variable: How I feel about it._ _  
__Additional Information: Results could be biased because feelings are a variable in itself._

 _Trial 1:_ _  
__Trial 2:_ _  
__Trial 3:_

_Conclusion:_

***

“Hey, Kenma.”

“Yeah, Kuro?”

“Have you ever thought about boys?” _Very smooth, very smooth_ , Kuroo thought, mentally patting himself on the back. But it was Kenma. Kenma didn’t care about things like that. For having no plan, Kuroo was doing just fine.

Kenma affixed him with his signature look before turning back to his PSP. “Sure. I see boys all the time.”

“No, like romantically.”

Kenma shrugged. “I guess. There’s one boy, maybe, not really any of the other boys though.”

“Who?” Kuroo perked up instantly.

“As if I’m telling you. I know better than that.”

“As your best friend, it’s my job to meddle in your love life.” Kuroo folded his hands together and leaned forward. Kenma made a face.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is, Kitten.”

“Why did you ask?”

“It’s an experiment I’m running.”

“About boys?” Kenma made another face, scrunching up his nose and eyebrows.

“Well, it’s more of a personal experiment,” Kuroo amended.

“Get a life, you nerd.”

“Ken _ma_.”

“I’m serious. Go out there instead of running _experiments,_ find a guy or something, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

He looked at his paper again. Looked back at Kenma. “I just want one kiss. That’s all I ask.”

“I want pie as compensation.”

“Of course,” Kuroo said without thinking, then realized Kenma hadn’t specified an amount. 

Kenma knew that as well, and he smirked, finally hitting pause on his save file. “One kiss, one pie.”

“One whole pie?” Kuroo sighed. Kenma was going to eat him out of house and home at this rate, considering Kuroo had bought him one last week and three weeks ago. He wanted to know how Kenma kept taking calories like that and still stay as slim as he was.

“One whole pie,” Kenma clarified, looking smug.

“Fine.” Kuroo sighed. “Kiss?”

Kenma complied, reaching up to lightly kiss him on the mouth. “There. Does that answer your question?”

Kuroo touched his mouth. “I mean, I guess so. I’ll need more evidence first, I can’t just run one test trial.”

“You’re such a nerd. I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your pie, don’t worry about it.” Kuroo snapped his fingers. “I know exactly who to ask.”

***

“Hey, Bo. Can I kiss you?”

Bokuto gave it all of a split-second’s thought before shrugging and saying, “Okay.”

“Wait, really?” Kuroo hadn’t expected him to agree so easily, and now that Bokuto had, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do next.

“Sure, just, no homo, bro.” Bokuto nodded emphatically. “I hope you’re a good kisser."

"No homo." Then, “Screw you, I’m a great kisser.”

“Says who?”

Kuroo stuck out his tongue as a response. 

“Com’ere.” Bokuto beckoned him forward. Kuroo leaned in and kissed him for five seconds before letting go. 

“So, how was that?” Kuroo folded his hands together as he waited for the verdict.

“Dude. You suck at kissing. Konoha is a lot better than you are. That actually had to be the worst kiss of my life.”

“Was it really that bad?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes before another thought struck him. “Wait. How do you know how Konoha kisses?”

Bokuto looked sheepish, scratching the side of his face. “We kiss. Sometimes. But we’re not like dating or anything. It’s just a friendly thing, right? Like what we just did.”

Kuroo sighed. His friends seemed to have an uncanny ability to hide information about their love lives. “You know, Bokuto, sometimes you render me speechless, and other times, you render me _speechless_.”

“I don’t get it.”

“How long have you been doing this ‘friendly kissing’ thing?” Kuroo put quotation marks in the air.

“Since our first year?” Bokuto looked puzzled, tilting his head in a way that made Kuroo think about the owls he sometimes saw at night. “Why? It’s just like what we just did. You can get better at kissing if you practice.”

“Like you and Konoha _practice_?” Kuroo raised his eyebrows.

Bokuto turned bright red. “Like I said, we’re just friends!”

“Well, who initiates it?”

“He does,” Bokuto admitted. “But he said he’s okay if I want to start it.”

“I--” Kuroo cut himself off and tsked, patting Bokuto on the head. “You know what, Bo? It’s okay. You’ll figure it out.” 

Bokuto looked left. Then right. Then back left again. Then back to Kuroo, with a dejected expression. “Ow. My hair. I haven’t washed out the gel yet.”

“Thanks for the kiss.”

“Anytime.” Bokuto winked, snapping finger guns at Kuroo, Konoha momentarily forgotten.

***

_Trial 1: Daishou Suguru._ _  
__(Trial 1.5: Yamaka Mika)_  
 _Trial 2: Kozume Kenma._ _  
_Trial 3: Bokuto Koutarou.

***

His last kiss before he turned 18, surprisingly, wasn’t one he initiated. His last summer training camp found him pressed against the brick wall, hands cupping Tsukishima Kei’s cheekbones.

He liked the kiss well enough, but when he closed his eyes, his mind let him imagine that it was Daishou he was kissing, not Tsukishima, maybe because Daishou had been his first kiss. And Tsukishima never met his eyes when he did it, like Kuroo was just an ideal instead of a person.

Later that night, he found his old experiment sheet, crumpled at the bottom of his backpack. He smoothed it out and read it again. The conclusion slot was still blank, so he dug out a pencil and clicked the lead, scratching down some words.

 _Conclusion: I am gay._ In his head, he could hear someone that sounded strangely like Kenma, laughing at him.

***

_6 years later_

***

Kuroo took his normal seat at the bar, exhausted from his day at work. The Adlers-Black Jackal game had turned his office into an uproar, so for the first time in weeks, he’d opted to go drinking on a weekday. Alone, because Kenma had ditched him for Akaashi. He flagged down the bartender and asked for a drink.

He sighed, taking a long swing.

And when he turned his head, he saw the last person he’d been expecting. Daishou Suguru sat a few seats down with a drink of his own, staring into nothingness. Kuroo didn't know if it was the nostalgia or the alcohol, but he got up from his seat and sat down next to Daishou.

"Long time no talk."

"Kuroo," Daishou said, not unkindly. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Not really," Kuroo admitted. "I'm here more often than I should be."

Daishou snorted. "How nice of you."

"Oh, didn't you know?" he deadpanned. He was drunk and saying things he shouldn't have been saying, but no one was stopping him. He carried on. "I’m always this nice."

"As if. Don’t know who you're trying to convince, I've known you for years."

"And you didn't talk to me at least, what, 80% of that time? Trust me, Daishou, you don't know me at all."

“Really? Is that a challenge?” Daishou smirked, raising his eyebrows.

“Sure, why not.” Kuroo shrugged. “What is there possibly to know?”

“Let’s see. You work for the Japanese Volleyball Association. Your favorite food is grilled salted mackerel pike, though you do have a fondness for tamagoyaki. You don’t have any siblings, but you count Kozume-kun as your little brother. Your favorite color is red due to Nekoma loyalty. And, apparently, you frequent this iyakaza too much.”

“That’s not my favorite anymore. And that’s all surface information.”

“But it used to be.” Daishou raised his eyebrows at him. “There’s plenty more I could say, but I don’t think it’s what you want to hear tonight. So, what can you name about me? If you’re so concerned about it being surface information, dig deeper.”

“You’re a starter for Yotsuya Motor Spirits.” Kuroo wracked his brain for other information, but the only thing that came to mind was Daishou’s player file at the office.

“Anything else?”

Kuroo blanked. Daishou shot him an assertive smile, clearly triumphant. They nursed their drinks in a strange companionship. Seeing Daishou brought back all the memories of when they were younger, and he couldn't help the next words bubbling up in him, because he'd wondered the answer for so long.

"What did the kiss mean? Back in junior high."

Silence.

"Nothing," Daishou finally said, not meeting his eyes. "It meant nothing."

 _Liar_.

"Then why did you avoid me?" Kuroo demanded. All this time, left in the dark left everything spilling over.

"Grow up, Kuroo, that was years ago."

"In case you haven't noticed, the world doesn't revolve around you," Kuroo spit out.

"And it doesn't revolve around you either. Your point?"

Deflection was something Daishou had always been good at, turning it back on Kuroo to draw the attention away from himself. It made Daishou look less conspicuous. Kuroo remembered that much. He downed the rest of his drink and called for another. The bartender gave him a strange look, but complied, setting another glass in front of him.

Daishou furrowed his brow. Or maybe Kuroo was just imagining the concern on his face. "Didn't know you like drinking this much."

Why was Kuroo drinking this much? He distantly recalled only having a drink or two at most whenever he came by, but there were four empty glasses in front of him and a fifth in his hand. _It was all Daishou's fault_ , he concluded. It was always Daishou’s fault.

Kuroo couldn't decide if he wanted to smack Daishou with his hands or lips. Possibly both. But why? Daishou was a conspiring, cunning, insufferable, underhanded jerk who also happened to be really hot. Yeah. He had no idea why. His cheeks warmed. Kuroo decided he was never drinking more than three again. What did he ever order, anyway? It was really strong, and he didn’t recognize it as anything familiar.

The dim lighting accentuated Daishou's sharp cheekbones, his eyes glinting in the dark. Kuroo compared the Daishou in front of him to junior high Daishou. His features hadn't changed much. Even back then, Daishou was a knockout, and being an athlete meant girls flocked to him.

He tore his eyes away and went back to his drink, stirring the little plastic straw around to hear ice cubes clink against his glass. Kuroo finished off his alcohol and decided he was done for the night. He was going to go home, nurse his headache, wake up in the morning, and promptly die. Then, he’d probably call in sick from the comfort of his bathroom tile as his head spun like a demonic merry go round.

“Bye, Daishou. Talk to you another time, I suppose.” Kuroo stood up and began to walk away when he felt a tug on his hand. He looked down and saw a red string tied around his pinky, and on the other end was Daishou, hand reaching out as if he wanted Kuroo to stay.

Daishou muttered something under his breath, shaking his head, looking between Kuroo and the string connecting them.

 _Well_. Kuroo froze, and it seemed time froze with him.

Well, indeed. This wasn’t something he could walk away from now though he desperately wanted to, to go home and pretend that this night never happened. Why now? He went back to his seat. Was it too late to order another drink? He had the inkling of a feeling that he’d need another one before the night was through.

Daishou laughed, a harsh, ugly sound of contempt. “Would you believe me if I said I’d loved you for years?”

“No.” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think out a proper response. A small voice in his head sounded warning alarms, but he plunged forward regardless. Another set of words sat on his tongue, heavy and leaded. Words he wouldn’t dare say out loud, words he’d known all along, but words he was too afraid to say.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Daishou shook his head.

“Mika,” Kuroo pointed out, swallowing his other words. _Why give himself hope when this could all be an elaborate prank of his?_ “You dated Mika.”

“I loved her, too. It just wasn’t the same as you.” A sharp breath, a soft exhale. “There’s no one else like you, Kuroo Tetsurou. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

 _It wasn’t a joke._ Kuroo faltered, grasping for words.

“Daish--”

Daishou reached out and cupped his face, tilting it upward so he and Kuroo were eye to eye. He leaned in; Kuroo closed his eyes. Daishou kissed like a man clawing for each breath, like Kuroo’s lips had the means to save his life, and Kuroo kissed back, if not with the same vigour, then more. He opened his eyes to take in the view, Daishou’s dilated pupils wide and gazing back. Kuroo inhaled a breath and closed the gap again, letting Daishou fill all the parts missing.

The bartender paid them no mind. He probably saw this all the time.

“We should probably talk about this somewhere else. Like not a bar.”

“We can go to my apartment.” Kuroo beckoned him forward, and Dashou followed.

***

“Are you getting yourself another drink?” Daishou sat himself at the countertop, tapping his fingers on the laminate surface.

Kuroo shrugged, closing the fridge door, Asahi in hand. “Look, there’s no way I can go into work tomorrow like this, regardless if I go for another drink or not. I might as well indulge myself. You want one?”

Daishou raised his eyebrows. “No, I’m good. At this rate, you’re going to get alcohol poisoning.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just one night. I usually never drink this much, it’s been a stressful day, okay?”

“Is talking to me stressful?”

“No, it was work.” Kuroo sighed. “Hinata Shouyou’s debut turned the volleyball world upside down.”

“I kinda remember him. From high school, Miyagi, right?”

Kuroo nodded, setting his drink on the countertop, taking a seat next to Daishou. “We lost to them in my third year; he was a first year.”

“His bright orange hair is quite hard to miss.”

“So. What did you want to talk about?”

Daishou gestured aimlessly. “What we are. What this is.”

Kuroo paused. “Honestly, I don’t know if I could tell you.”

“I’m not going to mess around with you, Kuroo. No blurred lines. If you don’t want this, then I’ll let it go, but you have to say it.”

“We haven’t talked to each other for six years, Daishou. We don’t know each other at all, running off lists of facts won’t change that.”

“We can try.” Daishou watched his face curiously. “Are you alright?”

Kuroo glanced down at the red string wrapped around his pinky. Traced it until it reached Daishou. “I don’t know if I can. Try this, I don't know.”

“Why not?”

“Say this.” Kuroo took a breath and kept going. The words in his throat returned, and this time, he let them out. “There’s a boy, and in front of him is the boy that he’s maybe loved his entire life, but he’s always been too scared to tell him that he does. So he doesn’t, because he watched his family fall apart, and he doesn’t want the same for himself.”

“Never pegged you as someone who got scared about things like that.” Daishou kept his gaze on him, steady and unwavering. Kuroo shrank under his gaze, feeling far too much like a lab slide under a microscope for his liking.

“I’m still human, Daishou. Just like you.”

“You don’t know if you try. And then you try, and try, and try again until something works.”

“Tell me, then. Why do you want this?”

“Because it’s you,” Daishou said simply. “I guess I looked at you one day and decided that you were the one I wanted, but you pulled away.”

“I didn’t pull away,” Kuroo objected. “You did."

“I suppose we both did.” Daishou sighed. “And look where that’s gotten us now.”

“Do you think we would have lasted at that age? Because I don’t.”

“It doesn’t matter if we would have or wouldn’t have, because that’s not us anymore. This is us now.”

“We know nothing about each other,” Kuroo repeated, but quieter this time. Less confident.

“But we can take the time to learn. Relationships need two people to work.” A flicker of a smile reached his mouth. Pure, unadulterated honesty. “Can I kiss you again?”

_Can we try to make this work?_

He nodded, and Daishou reached over, pulling Kuroo in.

_Yes, we can._

***

“It’s getting late. I should go home.”

“If you like, you can stay.” Kuroo looked at his unopened drink and put it back into the fridge, stretching as he did so.

“I can’t impose like that.”

“I’ve got room to spare. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the futon.” Daishou held up a hand to protest, but Kuroo silenced him. “Think of it as the first step.”

"Good night, Kuroo."

"Good night, Daishou." 

***

Kuroo woke up the next morning in his own bed. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. His nightstand held a glass of water, two small, white, round pills, and a note: _I went home, but I’ll see you another time. Sunday, 2pm? Here’s my number._

He looked at his right hand and traced the red string until it slipped past his door and out of sight, connecting him to Daishou at all times. His head ached, and it was probably best if he skipped work, but Kuroo smiled, a smile of new possibilities, dawning like the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: [Lose Somebody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmWih4XfRWY&ab_channel=KygoOfficialVEVO)
> 
> Ah thanks for going on this wild ride with me!  
> [tumblr](https://lumenera.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/lumenera_)


End file.
